White
by Anonymous452
Summary: A one-shot about Pyro and what life was like in the mental asylum of which he grew up in. I am terrible at summaries, and rating because I am paranoid.


A/N- Hey guys! Uh, this is a one shot about Pyro and his experience in an insane asylum. I apologize if you hate it, uh, I'm really nervous. This is the first fanfiction I've ever uploaded. So, enjoy, I guess.

White.

That's what everything was in this place. The walls, the bed, even the uniform he was forced to wear were the same lifeless color. John placed the padded floor of his cell. He couldn't take it anymore, he felt boxed in. Like there was no escape, and there wasn't.

What the hell was wrong with his parents? Locking him up in such a dreadful place, he was just a boy. He shouldn't be in a padded cell wasting away! He should be going to school, making friends, and enjoying his childhood. He should have a loving family, someone to depend on, and someone he can love.

Instead he was locked away. Just because he saw things that weren't there and heard strange voices in his head and liked a certain element a _little _too much.

John sunk to the floor, pulling his knees close to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. John stared numbly at the white wall, his eyes glazing over as he stared off into space.

_'Why are you just sitting here like a yobbo?' _Someone snarled.

John's head shot up and he scanned the room. Where had that voice come from? His medication hadn't worn off yet, right?

"W-Who's there?" he whispered.

John stood up leaning against the wall. '_Who do you think?'_ It snapped harshly.

John jumped, where was it coming from?

"Where are you?" John demanded.

'_In your head,' _it said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, leave me alone, you're going to get me in trouble!"

The orderlies didn't like it when their patients talked to themselves because it upset the therapist. If it upset the therapists it upset them. They were there to keep the therapists happy and the patients healthy (in other words: not dead). And that was exactly what they were going to do.

The voice laughed, echoing through the room, _'Trouble? _It spat, '_You shouldn't be getting in trouble!'_

_"You need to bust us out of here, we don't belong here! You're a child and I am nothing but guidance."_

John shook his head, his bright orange bangs falling in his face. "No," he whispered, hoping the orderlies outside wouldn't hear his one-sided conversation, "What if we got caught, the warden would be mad."

The voice cackled again, _"The warden?" _It gasped out between laughs, _"You mean your father?"_

The voice continued laughing as John scowled, "Shut up!" he snapped.

John and his adopted father never got along. His mother tried her best to keep them together. Keep them a family. It actually worked for a while, John and his father didn't want to upset Mrs. Allerdyce, so they went along with it. His parents always sort of knew he wasn't sound in his head, they tried to deny it, but they had to face the truth. They had John meet with a therapist and she declared that John was nowhere near mentally sound. So they enrolled St. John in Mr. Allerdyce's mental institution (IRONY).

"What did you say?"

John looked up and his blue eyes met with cold gray ones. Fear filled his heart to the brim and he backed up against the padded wall. He sunk to the floor and gave a sheepish smile. "N-nothing, sir,"

The order lie nodded and pulled a syringe from behind him. John's eyes widened with terror and he pressed his back against the wall. The order lie shook his head and stepped closer. "Ya know the rules St. John, if ya start talking to yourself ya gotta take a little… nap."

John shook his head and let out a small growl. _'DO IT!' _the voice shrieked, _'ATTACK! ATTACK! WIN OUR FREEDOM, DO IT NOW!'_

John felt numb before a strange sensation took over his body. It felt as if he wasn't in control of his own body. As if the voice had taken control. John lunged at the guard, wrapping his hands around the larger man's throat. The guard screamed in pain as John sunk his teeth into the guard's arm. He tried to pry John off of him but to no avail.

"HELP!" the man somehow managed to choke out, "SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

Three other order lies and a nurse burst into the room and pulled John off of their friend. Two held John to the padded floor while one tended to the wounded guard. John cried out in pain as the voice shrieked at him to break free. He tried to lift his arms up but the guards held him down. He kicked and screamed but nothing worked. Mr. Allerdyce stormed into the cell, enraged by all the noice but the anger turned to disappointment as he spotted his son on the floor and the guard a few feet away from him. The guard was bleeding and his neck was red and swollen.

Mr. Allerdyce's eyes met his son's, tears flowed down John's face, "Dad…" he whispered.

The nurse picked the syringe up from the floor and walked over to John. She tilted his head up exposing his neck and pierced the skin with the needle, injecting the sedative into John's bloodstream. John whimpered as he rested his head on the padded floor. John twitched and struggled for a moment longer. The sedative started to take affect he became very still and his eyes slowly began to close. Mr. Allerdyce shook his head and left the cell quickly. For just a second it seemed as if a knife had pierced his heart, he hated seeing John in pain.

John moaned and closed his eyes the last thing he saw was the white, padded ceiling.

White.

That's all he ever saw.

Because that's all there was in John's world. And that's all there would ever be.

White.

Disclaimer- I own nothing.


End file.
